


A Nice Vintage

by Bischedule (neunundneunzig)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-19 12:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19356676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neunundneunzig/pseuds/Bischedule
Summary: Crowley drinks a love potion. The only thing that changes really is he's more openly adoring.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt from [The_Scathefire_Seer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Scathefire_Seer/pseuds/The_Scathefire_Seer)
> 
> lovebug fic where crowley is the one affected. (the idea being that the person bitten falls wildly in love with the first person they see and becomes very sappy and affectionate, and becomes depressed when separated from the object of their affection). aziraphale thinks it’s all just from the bite at first (though crowley of course knows he’s been in love for millennia) which leads to a confession once it wears off.

Aziraphale strolled along through Tadfield. He'd gone through all his pleasantries with the witch, it was time to get down to business, "I'd heard through a rather curious deliveryman that there was, ahem, a sequel."

"A sequel?" Anathema hummed, kicking a rock. 

"Oh yes, though he didn't seem aware just what he was telling me. But an old delivery to a certain descendant."

She seemed to cringe at the word. Aziraphale frowned, "I didn't mean to offend."

"No, no just… it's gone now. She sent it, and… I don't think the world would be better for it."

Aziraphale sighed, "So you…"

"Burned it."

"Ah. Well I suppose that's your choice to make. As a bookkeeper I just would rather liked to have seen it."

Anathema gave an unapologetic half smile, opening the cottage door for him. Aziraphale noticed the Bentley out front, but somehow didn't think to connect it until they entered. 

"Oh, hello my darling angel." Crowley smiled as Aziraphale came through the doorway. Aziraphale returned the smile. Crowley's eyes seemed to light up as soon as he saw him. It was endearing. Aziraphale smiled back politely. Anathema glared.

"This wine is terrible. Really just awful. It's American isn't it? I just don't trust Napa, I'll tell you." Crowley tutted, speaking to Anathema and gazing openly at Aziraphale. 

Anathema stared at him, then spoke slowly, "You broke into my home, found an unattended bottle, decided to drink it, and are now insulting me on the quality?"

"Aziraphale said he would be here! And it's not like you made it unclear I was unwanted. That horseshoe is giving me hives, really."

Anathema looked at Aziraphale, seeking out some sort of explanation for his gall. Aziraphale smiled, "Well, it is rather rude if you're running the chance of demonic guests. May I have a glass?"

"You don't want one, my dearest." Crowley smiled and drank more from the bottle. "It's awful. I'll grab us something better on the drive home, I think we pass a vineyard."

"Well." Anathema crossed her arms, "Either way, it's not wine."

Crowley sat up and placed the bottle away from him, "er…?"

"It's a love potion." She smirked, "Serves you right then."

"....a love potion. And you just have this lying about then?"

"It was in my potion cellar! You're lucky you're not dead, snooping around in it." She shook her head, "It'll draw your affections to whomever you first laid eyes on after drinking. Please tell me Newt has still been out."

"Hm? Whatsat?" Crowley rested his chin on his hand, his elbow on the table, "Zira, is that a new coat? Looks just stunning in the light."

"Not at all." He smiled, "It's the same old one. It's-" His eyes widened and he spun to look at Anathema, "What? Me?!"

She shrugged, "Seems so then. Serves the both of you right, coming out and meddling in all sorts of things."

"What, me?" He pouted, "I'd only wanted to inquire, it would be a dangerous tome in the wrong hands."

"I'm not super sure you're the right hands. It's gone anyways. Alright, I think you should both be leaving."

"Look, Crowley, you've gone and embarrassed me in front of Ms. Nutter-" "Device." "Device." "Well, Device-Pulsifer." "Right well!"

"Doesn't he just look so sweet when he pouts like that? He knows it, uses it to get his way with me." Crowley hummed, reaching for the bottle again.

"Nah-Ah!" Anathema snatched it up, "Here, I'll… if it's a warning crescent now… okay, I can get you an antidote, but it will take a week."

"A week?!" Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, "Will he be alright?"

"Of course. He'll just be a bit more… affectionate. It really shouldn't be anything worrying coming from your husband."

"Husband?"

"Sorry, do you prefer partner?"

"He's my hereditary rival, the scourge of hell, the Enemy!"

"Oh flattery will get you everywhere." Crowley winked. 

Anathema stared. She didn't want to come off as insensitive about the matter, but she was also growing rather tired of the unexpected guests. She sighed and opened her mouth to speak. 

Crowley began first, "Angel, can I play with your hair? It's mussed up so nice."

Anathema gave Aziraphale a pointed look, "Come back by in a week."

Aziraphale snatched his hand away at first when Crowley went to hold it. It was more of a surprise at the touch, but Crowley made such a hurt noise. He took his hand quickly, "You only startled me is all, dear boy."

Crowley laced their fingers together tight and walked them back to the car. He let go only once they arrived, to open Aziraphale's door for him, "Oh! I stopped in to check on Adam. His mother said you came by to, and you were pleasant. She's very right, you're always pleasant."

"Right yes thank you." Aziraphale muttered, getting in, uncomfortable with the praise. 

Crowley got in, gazing adoringly at Aziraphale as the car started and drove. Aziraphale frowned, "Please keep your eyes on the road."

"Oh it knows better than to crash." He reached over and took Aziraphale's hand again, clasping it in both of his, "You look worried, my love."

Aziraphale turned pink. They'd been close certainly, but they weren't one another's _loves_. He couldn't make himself speak that point though. He smiled softly, "Well, you've seen most of it. I was inquiring about the second volume of Agnes Nutter's prophecies. Turns out she'd burnt it up."

"Oh, what a shame. I know you would have loved to have that." He patted his hand, then brought it up to his mouth and gently kissed his knuckles. 

"The road, dear!" Aziraphale sputtered out.

Crowley sighed, putting one hand lazily on the steering wheel, "I'll be fine… Now, vineyards."

"I've got plenty to drink at home." Aziraphale coughed. He shouldn't be embarrassed about this. It was Crowley, they were close friends. This wasn't horrible. He shouldn't feel anger and shame at this. It was all that long standing ideas of the angels in his head, pushing him away from this. There were plenty of decades and places he wouldn't and didn't think twice about Crowley speaking so fondly and touching so openly. But to call it love? 

The demon probably felt the same. He would be happy to be spared the embarrassment of it all in a week once he was better. 

"You're lucky your worry lines are so adorable." Crowley cooed, "What's on your mind, angel?"

"Oh, just this whole… love potion business. You understand of course that's why you're all… fond of me at the moment, of course."

"Aziraphale, I'm fond of you because I've been at your side for six millennia. But it took far less time than that for me to fall in love with you. Let's see… we were still wearing robes, it was…"

"Oh don't go painting over memories now!" Aziraphale cried, "No, really, you'll be feeling better soon enough."

Crowley hummed softly and shoved in a random cassette, not caring what it said it would play, just knowing what sound would come about. Aziraphale sighed heavily, "Must you play this?"

"You don't like it?" He ejected the tape, "I… I really wish I had something else for you dear…"

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "No, no… it's…. Fine."

Crowley parked out front, rushing around to open Aziraphale's door for him again, taking his hand to help him get out. Aziraphale was nearly annoyed. He shouldn't need bottled love to act like a gentleman on occasion. 

He tried not to be irritated by the way Crowley lingered a bit too close as he opened the bookshop door and went to find a bottle of actual red. Crowley swatted his hands away, "Let me pour for you, please."

He handed the glasses over, slouching into his chair. Crowley poured them both with a sommeliers flourish and handed Aziraphale his. He moved close, sitting on a wooden bench. Aziraphale grimaced as thin fingers started toying with his hair. Crowley twisted curls gently, then leaned in to press a small kiss to his temple. Aziraphale stilled. Crowley hummed, "Oh how does your head smell so nice… do you shower? I know we don't need to, but I fancy one occasionally."

"Erm, cologne."

"Right yes! Well… this one is very good." He sniffed his head again, "I like it very much."

"Thank you." He shifted, "So… tell me about this new infernal business of yours. Any wiles I need to be thwarting?"

Crowley smiled and started to chat on. They fell back into their rhythm easily. Before Aziraphale quite realized it, they were a few bottles in and Crowley was sprawled out in his lap, gangly limbs dangling over the arms of the chair. He smiled drunkenly and reached up, caressing Aziraphale's face gently. The angel knew he should probably put a stop to it, but it felt nice to have him close. 

He smiled and pecked Aziraphale's lips, then got up, filling his glass again and sitting back by the stunned angel. He hummed and pulled his head close, toying again with his hair and humming softly.

"When first t'this world a stranger I came  
Placed my affection on an angel young,  
He being fair and tender, his waist small and slender."

"Hey." Aziraphale pouted. 

"Shh. It's the song." Crowley kissed his forehead, continuing to stroke through his hair, "On th'banks of th'Bann it was there I first met 'im  
Looked like some god or fairer queen,  
His eyes were like diamonds or stars so brightly  
Fairest of all in this world I've seen…  
'T was 'is cruel parents that first caused a variance,  
'Cause he's holy'n above my degree.  
But I'll do my endeavour to gain my love's fev-er. Favor… Fev…"

Crowley yawned and nosed his neck, "Well, you get the point is all, my bonnie sweet lad."

"Oh my." Aziraphale blushed hard, "That was very nice, Crowley, thank you."

Crowley swung his head around and kissed Aziraphale again, a bit deeper this time. The angel jumped away a bit, "You know! I have some business to tend to tomorrow, and it really is getting late."

Crowley settled into his chair with a smile, "I'll help you tidy the place up then."

"That's really not necessary. I mean, shouldn't you be getting on as well?"

"I'm fine here, my angel dearest."

"Crowley." Aziraphale hated putting the firmness in his tone, but he couldn't keep this up. It would humiliate Crowley in a week's time. "Crowley, go home."

He regretted it immediately. Crowley got that sad look on his face he always did when Aziraphale turned him down. But now, he didn't quickly cover it up in hurt-sprung anger. He stared at Aziraphale like a kicked dog and muttered, "Without you?"

"You've done it plenty before. You can come back in the morning. Sober up and be on your way, I need some space, dear."

Crowley pursed his lips and nodded, then winced, sobering, and left without another word. 

 

Crowley paced around, looking over at his rhododendron, "What am I thinking, what am I thinking! He's an angel! He'll never want me more than heaven, I'm lucky to have him as a friend!" 

He sighed, flopping and leaning on the large ceramic pot holding a small fig tree, one that was on the chopping block if it didn't step up a bit, "I've done everything I can, _everything_ over the years to show him… I froze time and faced the devil just to keep him here with me, oh…"

"Oh but he's so gorgeous…" Crowley spritzed the mister in the air just to watch the drops fall. All the plants were watered properly much earlier, "He's the shining sun of my life. He's an angel, sure, but he's different! So different… if I met him before, I may have even…" he sighed, "Oh but it's no use…"

The plants were completely unsure what this meant. Crowley had been alternating between praising the angel and wailing on his own misfortune for going on four hours now. While there was half the idea Crowley had gone soft on them, it all felt more like some bizarre psychological trick. The fig tree swelled at one of it's branches, dropping down a ripe fig.

Crowley looked at it as it fell into his lap. He tried not to smile. He stood, patting the pot, "Good show, suppose I might keep you then." 

It was the highest praise one of his plants had ever received. 

He paced a bit, then smiled. He knew the key to Aziraphale's heart well. He grinned, opening cabinets that had been barren up until moments ago. He pulled out various sacks of things, flour, sugar, brown sugar, blueberries. He nodded sagely and went about his task. 

Now, Crowley didn't have much of an idea how to bake, besides the slightest general one. He knew it involved mixing things together in a bowl, there were certainly eggs in it, and putting it all in the right pan and into an oven. He was certain it would work, and so it did. He intended the result, and so it was. He smiled, letting them cool, packaging them up, and finally, when the time was right, heading over to Aziraphale's. 

Aziraphale at the moment, was having a long, tiring conversation with Gadriel. He was being told in no uncertain terms that even given his rebellion, Heaven still accepted him, but he needed to curb his fraternizing with the enemy. 

"He's not serving an infernal purpose against me! But when he is, I must thwart him!" Aziraphale pled. He knew he was falling over himself with the two narratives. 

"You let him get away with much over the years. Given your recent _thwarting_ of the Apocalypse, are we supposed to turn a blind eye to this? He's a demon, a beast meant to slither in the dust, he should-"

"He's my friend!" Aziraphale snapped. 

"Your friend…" he tutted, "Aziraphale, I dearly pity you. Demons are not capable of friendship or affection. He's playing you for a fool."

Aziraphale winced as Crowley pulled up, a little basket in hand, and rattled the door. He frowned and waved at Aziraphale, wanting in. 

Gadriel gave him a look, "Let him in. I'll test the constitution of him."

Aziraphale sighed, flicking the door open with a little wave. 

"Irresponsible use of a small miracle." He tutted. Aziraphale held his tongue. 

Crowley bounced up happily, ignoring the other angel, "Ziiira! I missed you so much I felt sick." He held out the basket and pulled cloth off, "I made you muffins. They're blueberry brown sugar."

"Oh. Well yes, thank you very much Crowley. If you'll wait in the back room ..." 

"Won't you try one, my white dove? I need to know if you like them at all."

"And you trust him not to poison you?" Galadriel scoffed. 

Aziraphale frowned, "Why yes, yes I do." And pulled a moist one from the basket, biting in. He closed his eyes, chewing with a soft smile, "Oh… Crowley, these taste just like…"

"The blueberry pastries we had in Bavaria in aught-nine? I tried my best, dear. But if I'd known another angel was here, I certainly would have poisoned a few for him."

Gadriel stared, then pressed a hand hard on Crowley's chest. He held a hand up to Aziraphale when he stepped close by. "I'm not hurting him, hold your tongue, principality."

Crowley watched Aziraphale for any indication on how to take this, completely unsure. Gadriel pulled his hand back quick and shook his head, "No, no, it can't be… how… absolutely unlikely."

Aziraphale moved, placing himself between Gadriel and Crowley, cautious. He really could use a flaming sword right now. Gadriel shook his head, "It's… genuine. The demon actually loves you. I'd read the reports from hell but… He really has gone native. This is a transformation worth note. Perhaps heaven was wrong about the two of you…" he vanished as smoothly and quickly as he had appeared.

Crowley smiled warmly at Aziraphale, offering the muffins, "Would you like another then?"

"Oh Crowley you lucky bastard!" Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him, "You understand what you've just done for me, dear? Because of that potion, heaven now thinks you have full love for me, they'll leave you alone! They'll leave us alone!"

Crowley hugged back, setting the basket down and pressed against him, "Oh I'm so glad you're going to be safe… but they should really think so, I do love you so damn much."

"Hush." Aziraphale smiled, "I'll make coffee."

"You don't believe me! I made you muffins and everything!" 

"Crowley. Please, that's enough of that. Anathema will have you better soon enough."

"I don't want to be better, if being ill means loving you without bounds." He kissed Aziraphale's cheek with little pecks. Then he sighed and pulled back, not wanting to get thrown out again, "Coffee, coffee is good." 

Aziraphale smiled, then pecked his lips. Crowley felt his heart glow. He took Aziraphale's hand and let him lead him to the kitchen. He sat and stared at him, "What did I ever do good enough to be paired with a wonderful being like you?"

Aziraphale smiled gently, "You've done plenty good, my dear. You hate me to say it, but you're sweet and soft and compassionate."

"Ouch." Crowley hummed with a smile. "Really angel, you wound me."

Aziraphale smiled back, setting down coffee for them both, "You're a cruel, wicked thing, a wily serpent."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. You are the bringer of ruin and… and mild, irritating inconvenience to all of London and the world at large. You are the scourge of the downtown area."

"Now you're talking." He grinned.

Aziraphale sat, making himself a plate with another two muffins, "I was reading up on this potion. You were right about feeling sick. It's really best if you stay here, or at least by my side full time. In humans the affects can be… rather awful. You'll grow sick and catch fever. I don't know how badly it will hurt you but I won't for once take the risk."

"Because you love me too." He smirked. 

"Because I care deeply for you. Crowley, Angels love all of God's creation."

"Because you love me specifically."

"I'm very fond of you, yes, but you're… intoxicated, in a sense, and I won't toy around with you in this state."

"I wouldn't mind." He cocked his head, "I'm a pretty fun toy."

"Crowley!" He blushed, "That's quite enough."

"Don't wanna play around?" He waggled his eyebrows.

Aziraphale burst laughing at that, "Does that work on anyone? Oh my that's… you look just… do it again!"

He raised just one, then waggled them again. He grinned, loving the light, full laugh of his love. He reached across the table and took his hand, staring fondly. Aziraphale tried not to give it all too much weight, the affection, the gifts. He certainly couldn't let himself fall in love with Crowley like this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this one took me long enough, but here it is!

Aziraphale didn't mind Crowley's presence, not at all. But being followed around his bookshop all day grew tiring for him very quick. Angels are social creatures in general, but Aziraphale was always an anomaly. He liked his space and he liked his privacy. 

It got to be too much with the comments too. "Aziraphale, love, you're so organized. You make this place feel so comfortable, no wonder you have to beat away customers." "Is your hair woven from silver and gold?" "Your presence is like a moonbeam, dearest." But what finally made him snap was, "Oh my. I'd never noticed angel, but you have the most perfect round arse."

Aziraphale shot up from where he was bent over, huffing. He shook his head, "Let's  
get out of the house a bit, eh? Maybe a…"

"A picnic!" 

Aziraphale smiled, "Yes, actually, that's a lovely idea. I'll get the basket, grab us up some wine and cheese, will you dear?"

"Anything you say." He hummed and went to it. 

Really, they should have been out in the first place. It was a gorgeous sunny day, warm but not hot. Aziraphale was lounging, spreading brie on crackers as Crowley paced around the field doing something. He couldn't quite tell, but he did appreciate the quiet. 

Crowley came back up to the picnic basket, a few daisies in his hands. He grinned and sat close to Aziraphale, facing him to slide one into his jacket's buttonhole and spreading the others over the blanket except one. He leaned on Aziraphale, smiling warmly and plucking gently at the petals, "He loves me… he loves me not. He loves me…. He loves me not. He loves me…"

Aziraphale gazed over as Crowley went on, counting the petals quickly and shifting a bit. An extra one unraveled. Crowley smiled up at him, plucking the last few, "He loves me. Aziraphale loves me."

"I love all God's beings. You're Her creation and my dear friend." Aziraphale carded through his hair. 

Crowley looked up and frowned. Aziraphale gave a kind smile. Crowley reached up and plucked a hair from Aziraphale's head, "He loves me…" and another, "He loves me not…"

Aziraphale swatted his hand, "Oh you dreadful thing! Of course I… of course I love you, it's only… it's not the kind of love you're feeling for me right now."

"I'll take what I can get." Crowley pecked his lips, then pulled back, grabbing up a grape and tossing it in the air, catching it in his mouth. Aziraphale tried to not feel heartbroken for him, but angels are highly empathetic beings.

* * *

The first night was a little odd. Aziraphale never slept. He stayed up and read all night, if there was no other business to attend to. But Crowley expected to lie down for some reason, and was insistent on not doing it alone. 

"Well you've got to have a bed in here somewhere. Just spoon me for a bit? I can't sleep alone and I'm _tired_ today."

"You don't need sleep, you're being slothful." Aziraphale tutted.

"You don't have to sleep too! You can read, it'll just be even more comfortable! Try it, just for me?"

He sighed a bit, then nodded, "There is a bedroom upstairs."

It was musty. The window was coated over with dust, and the quilt on the bed was worn and faded. Books piled up the sides and corners of the room. Crowley saw a mouse scurry by, but said nothing of it. 

Aziraphale sat down, leaning on the headrest, "Well… is this proper?"

Crowley climbed into bed and coiled himself around Aziraphale, pressing his head up under his arm and his legs swung around him, arms wrapped around his shoulder and back, "Mm… perfect."

Aziraphale felt the demon relax, muscle by muscle, then tighten up again to hug him, "Hmm…. Read to me angel?"

"You won't like this book."

He glanced up, then sighed in disappointment, "Oh. Lewis. No, you're right. Maybe just… talk? Say something nice to me."

He slipped in a bookmark, "Well… you're much kinder and sweeter than hell gives you-"

"Nothing like that."

Aziraphale sighed and looked down at him, then smiled and kissed by his ear, right at the serpent tattoo. Crowley gave a short, high noise. Aziraphale nosed his head, "You're beautiful. You have a right to be vain, my dear, this body is wonderful. And the other one too… what perfect, shining, onyx scales you have…"

Crowley closed his eyes and gave a pleased noise. 

"You're just beautiful. And good to talk to. I enjoy every minute of your company, even when it's a bit much. You're my best friend, dear. We shifted the world for one another and I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Aziraphale was about to say more, but he noticed the demon was sound asleep. He pecked his forehead. This was becoming very nice. He needed to not get used to it, but there was so much new and fascinating he hadn't seen of Crowley ever before.

* * *

The kissing was certainly new. Aziraphale found it inappropriate, but not so unruly he would stop it. Not at least, until Crowley thought it could go any further. 

Sprawled over him now, Crowley kissed him gently. Aziraphale let him, returning it just slightly. The demon was going to be sensitive to rejection from him until the antidote was given. He could make some allowances. But then Crowley kissed deeper, cupping Aziraphale's face, some intent and fire behind his attentions. Aziraphale gasped and Crowley slipped his wicked tongue into his mouth. Aziraphale groaned for a moment then pushed him back, "No. No, sorry I meant. I. Crowley I will not take advantage of you in this state."

"I'm sober." He nosed at Aziraphale's neck, "Well not… I'm sober enough, I can be more sober if you want…"

"I don't mean the drink, dear, I mean the potion. This time Monday you-" he held back a gasp as Crowley kissed and sucked the sensitive skin behind where his jaw met his ear, "You'll be… sorely embarrassed…"

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you certainly will."

"Angel do you think for a moment I haven't thought about fucking you before? Often? In every conceivable-" 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale jerked away, scandalized. 

"But I would never! Because you're an angel. A being of light. You should and would never do something as dirty as fucking a demon."

"Crowley, dear, I don't view you as dirty. Really, let's shelve this conversation. It's not a good time to discuss this and I don't appreciate your profanity."

"...I know you don't think I'm dirty. Or evil, or... Which is why I want to make love to you." He took his hand, "Zira, I know you're not ready for it. I'll stop. But when you're ready, I want you in my arms and I don't plan on letting you go for a century. Oh, I dream about the moonlight on your skin, my angel."

"When?" His eyes widened, "When, Crowley? Oh I suppose you'll keep waiting in the wings for my debutant? How _noble_ of you."

"If!" Crowley tried to give an apologetic look, "If you ever have a desire to consumate, when you get it through your thick skull that you love me just as much as I love you!"

" _Consumate?!_ Just what sort of-" Aziraphale bit his lip, then exhaled slowly, "No. I'm sorry. I… I'm not frustrated with you. This situation is very difficult. You're poisoned and it's not your fault at all. You can stay here, I don't want you to leave. But you've made me cross, and I won't be talking to you for some time now." 

Aziraphale turned purposefully and went to his desk, sitting down and opening a book rather rougher than he usually would. He stared at the book, putting his complete energy into ignoring Crowley. It was ridiculous. It besmirched Crowley's bad name. He wouldn't give a second of thought to what Crowley might look like under the full moon, or how his fingers would be firm yet delicate. And certainly no mind to the butterflies crashing against the walls of his stomach at the implications of "consummation." There's no way an angel and a demon could ever…. Well. Gadriel had seemed impressed by Crowley. Marriage was…. No. No it was completely out of the question. By Monday Crowley would groan at the very thought. He needed to not let this all get in his head. Focus.

After 20 minutes, a large black snake slithered into his lap and curled there. He looked up at Aziraphale, seeming to ask permission to stay. Aziraphale couldn't help but smile and offer his hand, which the serpent flicked his tongue at before slithering up, looping around it partially. 

"My… what a handsome serpent. How did you get in here?" He stroked the smooth scales as Crowley wound up his arm to his shoulder. Aziraphale gazed at him, smiling softly, "Oh, you have such cunning eyes… what a _devious_ serpent you are."

Crowley slithered around his neck losely, resting on his other shoulder. Aziraphale smiled, "Oh dear… you horrid, vicious thing, are you going to choke me?"

Crowley flickered his tongue again, teasing at menacing. 

"Oh Heaven save me!" Aziraphale flung his hand to his forehead, "Oh, the dread Enemy Crowley is at hand! He'll bring about my discorporation!"

Crowley playfully snapped at him. Aziraphale leaned back in the chair, "Oh… oh no, the wily beast charges… it's far too much for my fragile constitution. To a worthy foe, I perish." He closed his eyes and slumped. He slowly peeked an eye open.

Aziraphale heard soft laughter, and the snake slithered to his lap, shifting into a more fleshy, angular, sprawled out Crowley. He still wrapped his arms around his neck, and pressed their foreheads together with a mischievous smile, "Now angel. I am absssolutely ccccertain I'm going to be embarrasssed about that."

Aziraphale smiled up at him fondly, "And here I thought I was doing it for your sake. Or, snake, as it were."

"Now when did I sssay you weren't?" He pecked his cheek and got out of his lap, shifting a bit, getting his land legs back again, "You know I… I'm really not just waiting for you to fall in love with me or anything. It'd have been an awful long time to wait. You're above all, my bessst friend, and I won't devalue that."

"I know." Aziraphale moved over and hugged him tight, "I know. I'm just sensitive, you old devil."

* * *

Aziraphale was, in honesty, nervous to have the demon in public. He already wanted to climb into Aziraphale's lap or hang off him at every opportunity, and while the inappropriate comments had been curbed, he was still simply nervous. But they had a lunch date at the Ritz, and he couldn't imagine cancelling. It had been nearly a month since he'd had any tiramisu. 

Crowley drove them, resting a hand on Aziraphale's knee the whole drive. He had a wicked little smile on his face as he opened the door for him. One that rarely bode well. 

They came up to the front. The server smiled, "Table for Mr. and Mr. Crowley?" 

"Yeah." Crowley smiled and brought Aziraphale's hand up to kiss it. Aziraphale frowned but played along. 

"Right this way." He seated them in their usual spot. It came to Aziraphale's attention that he had made an actual reservation. A smile broke on his face. The waiter set down their menus, "And happy anniversary."

"Thanks." Crowley smiled, taking Aziraphale's hand again. 

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, "Are you quite pleased with yourself?"

He smirked, "Well… Aziraphale Crowley does sound a bit ridiculous… maybe Anthony Fell… yes, that's got a ring to it. A tad ironic." 

"Hmm…" Aziraphale stretched his hand out, "Now I don't see a ring…"

"Do you want one?" Crowley sat up, earnest. It made Aziraphale's heart hurt a bit. 

He shook his head, "Dear. We're not married."

"We may as well be."

"We are not."

"We raised a kid with each other."

"We raised the supposed Antichrist _against_ each other. Hardly co-parenting."

"We nearly eloped."

"I distinctly recall saying no."

"I've saved your life so many-"

"That certainly doesn't make us married."

"Hm… my damsel in distress." Crowley grinned. Aziraphale couldn't help but blush and smile back. 

He gave a little sigh, "I'm going to miss this. You're almost pleasant to be around like this, you know."

"It's a good thing I'll still love you after." He rubbed his knuckles, "Shouldn't have gone with anniversary. I bet I could have gotten free dessert and champagne if I proposed."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "You would have gotten your whole meal free if I refused you."

"You wouldn't dare. You're too polite."

He smiled and ordered for himself, shrimps in a cream sauce. Crowley passed on food, drinking nearly a whole bottle of red on his own. "You're delicious enough for me, angel." He hummed when offered a bite of Aziraphale's tiramisu. 

"When would our anniversary even be?" Aziraphale hummed, "If we're… so very married?"

"The day we met. You, up on that wall… you were my sworn enemy but I couldn't help but approach you. You laughed at my joke, even though you didn't find it funny. That business with the sword… You shielded me from the first rain. I knew then, I wanted to see you again. You were something different, extraordinary, and I wanted to be by you."

Aziraphale nearly felt a tear spring to his eye. He was lost for words for a long moment, but landed weakly on, "No calendars then, dear."

"Hm well then… Perhaps when the Arrangement was struck? Seems the best one for it."

"Yes, yes, that would be it."

Aziraphale finished off his glass of white. He looked away as Crowley stared fondly and openly at him. He couldn't, shouldn't entertain the way it made him feel light and warm and perfect. 

"I love you so much." Crowley hummed. 

Aziraphale took his hand and leaned over, giving him a chaste kiss, "Happy anniversary, my dear."

* * *

Crowley was wound around him in the armchair again, tracing letters of dead scripts on his shoulder as he read. He was really just staring at the page. It would be tomorrow, and Crowley wouldn't love him anymore. He ached with the thought. He didn't know how badly he would miss the touch and tenderness until he had it.

He knew once the time came, Crowley would likely be angry. It wasn't right for Aziraphale to steal the kisses he had or to drink in all the love.

Aziraphale closed his eyes, taking in the gentle curve of Crowley's fingers on his flesh. The door slammed open. 

Gabriel and Uriel strode in, flipping the door sign to closed and locking it. Crowley held Aziraphale tighter and gave a hiss. Aziraphale rubbed his back, "No dear, easy…"

Uriel stayed a distance away, staring, "My Father who art… it is true!"

Aziraphale pulled Crowley close and stared at Gabriel. 

"I'd only come to confirm the rumors but… yeowch, I can feel it from here. The demon actually loves you." Gabriel frowned

"Jealous?" Crowley started nosing and kissing at Aziraphale's neck. 

"Dear, please, let's be appropriate."

"Not my style." He stared down the angels and pecked at Aziraphale's jaw. 

Gabriel stared in disgust and horror. He made no attempt to hide it. Uriel turned her head away, "You're aware, of course, that if you bear any offspring, we'll have to destroy it and the both of you."

Aziraphale nodded, trying to focus. 

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, "Well… it's… we can't do anything about love I suppose, so you can keep your pet demon."

Crowley hummed, "Darling, are they leaving? You really should spit some more hellfire at them again."

The angel's vanished in an instant. 

Crowley laughed, and Aziraphale pulled him closer, sighing in relief. "We're so lucky for it all. This whole potion business has been strange. It's… preposterous to propose a demon could, ahem… well."

Crowley pulled back, hearing sadness in his voice, "Could what?"

"I won't make you argue your love again, dear, it's rather useless in this state. What matters is that heaven doesn't know the situation, and believes demons capable of love and reform."

"....you don't believe that."

Aziraphale patted his arm, "Change doesn't come naturally to angels or demons."

"I don't know, we both shook up the status quo quite a bit. And I've lived dramatic changes. Used to be an angel, if you'll remember that."

Aziraphale looked to the side, "You know I don't like talking about the Fall."

Crowley sighed, "After everything… after the Apocalypse, after we banded together to change the course of destiny you really think I'm the same as any of them?"

"You know I don't!" He sighed, "You know you're different, but really, all this end of the world business, you're romanticizing it. What is it about a love potion that seems to make you so irritable?"

"Me, irritable?" He sneered, "You pick a fight every time I try to tell you how much I love you!"

"Because you don't! You're saying it because you're bewitched, and it-" Aziraphale held his tongue. He forced off the tears starting to well in his ducts. 

"You're ashamed. You're ashamed of me and that you love me too." Crowley sighed, "I knew you were pompous, but this is just-"

"Crowley!" He could feel them spilling hotly down his face now. "Of course I love you! Of course I'm _in_ love with you! I can't keep denying it when you act so… but in a few days, you'll be cured. You'll go back to your cool, suave demon self and my heart will be broken! If you really want to act like you love me right now, please, please just spare me the pain."

Crowley stared, stunned, mouth agape. He closed it, nodded, and spun around to the door. Aziraphale sighed, "Wait, please, you know you'll get sick if you go."

"Then come with me." He flung the shop door open. 

"Where are you going dear?"

"Tadfield. We need to settle this."

* * *

Aziraphale knocked politely as Crowley tried to dislodge the horseshoe with a branch. 

Newt answered the door, blinking tiredly, "It's… 3 in the morning. Oh… you're the angels back from…"

"Do I look like a bloody angel?" Crowley snarled.

Footsteps behind him, "Sorry dear, they're about ten minutes early. Head on back to bed."

Newt grumbled and went up. Anathema shook he head, "You're both terrible. Please don't bother me at this late an hour ever again." She pulled a small vial out of her robe and handed it to Crowley, "Now drink it and get along."

"My… you can predict the future too…" Aziraphale gasped as Crowley downed the vial, "Would you be interested at all in authorship of-"

"No. Now goodnight, move along. You two are going to have an awful lot to talk about." She slammed the door shut. 

Aziraphale scoffed and went back to the car, "Oh Crowley, I'm really terribly sorry for everything over the last few days. I won't bring up a moment of it again if-"

"Shut up. I love you."

Aziraphale frowned, "My, we'll have to tell Anathema the potion didn't-"

Crowley grabbed him by the shoulders, "You foolish, pompous _idiot_! Of course I love you, I've been in love with you for years and years and years! All that potion did was make me say it and act like a ridiculous sap!"

A window opened, Anathema craned her head out, "Go home and shout there!"

Crowley gave her a little wave, then took Aziraphale's hand and whispered, "I love you. You can bring the angels back and have them feel my heart again, I'm more sure I love you than…" he shook his head, "No, I'm done waxing poetic. Get in the car, angel, let me take you home."

Aziraphale squeezed his hand, following. After Crowley had started down the road, he finally spoke, "I believe you."

"And?"

"And I love you too."

Crowley grinned, "'Course you do. You really only hid it from yourself, everyone else knew."

"Oh? And I suppose risking limb for your mortal enemy every time I got myself in a tiff was subtle on your part?"

"Well you didn't seem to pick up on that either." Crowley laced their fingers back together, "Besides… you think I'm cool and suave. 

"My, yes, cool and suave." He hummed, "Would you like to play big bad serpent again, dear?"

"You liked that too. Acting. You still think you could have been in that damned Bard's plays."

"I'm a talented showman!" Aziraphale smiled. "You know… I think maybe, by some… miracle, if we visit that vineyard, the cellars might not be locked. 

"Way ahead of you, angel." He pressed down on the gas.


End file.
